Surrender

by Alvania Scarborough

  "I would have found a solution,” he gritted from between clenched teeth.

  "I agree. The question is ... would you have found it in time?"

  His slashed his hand in the air. “Inviting people unaccustomed to our ways will not cure our woes."

  Pure fury ignited inside Riana. She stood up. Darias was one step below her. It put them nose to nose. Riana waded in. “Your ways? Your ways?” she yelled. “Your ways made slaves of women. Your ways kept you isolated as a people. Your ways pitted man against woman, made it illegal for a woman to offer her opinion."

  "I noticed it never stopped you,” he drawled, insolence in his very bearing.

  "Because I was not imbrued in your ways!” She shoved on his chest. It was like trying to move a mountain.

  "You adopted our ways quick enough when it suited you,” he shot back. “You Punished me when I voiced an opinion, refused to let me voice a say!"

  "I'm letting you have a say now, aren't I?” she fumed. “And I don't hear one constructive word out of your mouth."

  "Would you listen?” he shot back.

  Riana leaned closer to hear the question. She didn't hesitate. “Yes."

  "Even if you don't like what you hear?"

  "Yes. Even if I don't like what you have to say."

  The silence in the chamber became deafening. Riana looked around. They were the cynosure of every eye in the place. “What are you people looking at?” she demanded, exasperated. You couldn't even have an argument in this place without all knowing about it. She grabbed Darias by the arm. “Let's go into the office where we can speak in private.” She glared at the closest group of offenders. “Maybe then we can work something out we can both agree on."

  * * * *

  Riana turned the key in the massive, old-fashioned lock in the office door. She rested her forehead against the cool wood, hoping it would soothe the throbbing in her temples. She placed both palms flat against the door and let it support her weight. What was he thinking?

  "Why did you give me back my leather breeches?"

  It was the last thing she expected to hear. Her hand dropped from the wood and she rubbed it nervously against the side of her leg. “You don't have any idea?"

  "No."

  "Because I knew how much you hated the slave pants.” Would he understand the significance behind the action? Would he understand it was her way of trying to compromise? Of trying to find a way to work together instead of locked in battle? Breath lodged in her throat, she waited for his response.

  She heard Darias crossing the room, and turned.

  He stood in front of the huge glass windows overlooking the gardens, staring outside. Lightning split the air and rain slashed the panes of the glass. The hard lines of his face were stark.

  He nodded.

  She couldn't read him at all, his face closed, impassive.

  "You serious about finding a solution? Together?” He tilted his head toward the closed door and the Great Hall.

  She walked over beside him, but she didn't touch him. “I'm serious. The problems of Nexar are complex. I don't mind admitting I need help. You are an able leader, Darias. You pinpointed the problems and were systematically solving them. It wasn't your fault that you inherited a stagnating economy and a society biased against a large portion of your population."

  "Maybe. Maybe not.” He braced one hand against the sill. A bolt of lightning highlighted the old scar that went from his middle knuckle to well past his wrist.

  He was also a warrior. A man more accustomed to fixing a problem than dwelling on what had gone wrong. Something she would do well to remember.

  "But it is my fault that I didn't even realize there was something wrong with the old system.” He turned his head and met her eyes. His golden gaze tarnished with pain. “We treated women with less respect than our animals. I treated you with less respect than my chelan. I trust his instincts. I would allow him to refuse a command, certain he had a reason, yet I would not even listen when you tried to explain your position. I hurt you."

  Riana crossed her arms under her breasts and stared with blind eyes at the sporadic drops of rain. “Yes, you did. I recovered quickly from the pain of punishment, but it took much longer to recover from the pain of humiliation.” She swallowed the tightness in her throat. “That's why I hurt you every chance I got."

  Darias caught her chin on the edge of his hand. “I understand. I thought I understood it the other night, but I didn't. Not really. Not until now. Where do we go from here?"

  "We learn to be a team. I won't say I won't ever be tempted to punish you. I have a temper. But I won't. You have my word."

  "Your warriors will never tolerate a slave advising you.” The corner of his mouth tipped up in wry acceptance of the fact.

  "They will if I treat you like a true mate."

  "They'll revolt,” he warned.

  Riana considered his words. “I don't think so. Look at how your warriors reacted to learning Saria of the Far Islands was a woman. Once they saw firsthand the advantages of trading with the Far Islands, they did little more than grumble. Granted, it helped that Sharri brought the profit from our goods and a wide range of sample trade goods available from the Far Islands back first. They respect you, Darias. Enough that they trusted you to turn over control of the entire country-state to the women.

  "Also, I'm given more latitude because I'm not from your world. Besides, the women are more pragmatic than the men."

  His expression darkened.

  Don't look so offended,” she told him, amused. “It's the truth. They know it is just a matter of time before you'd find a way to overthrow me.” She laughed at the look of shock on his face. “Did you think I wasn't aware that I couldn't hold out forever against your plans? You men were doing everything in your power to see to that we failed. You were certain that governing a household, much less a country-state, would tax us beyond endurance and we'd be relieved when men once again assumed the reins of power."

  "We were that obvious, huh?” He sounded more admiring than chagrined.

  Riana frowned at him.

  "I wouldn't say obvious, exactly. It's just that I knew you'd never concede defeat. Not completely."

  "How?” he asked, sounding curious.

  "We're a lot alike, you and I. In your place I would never give up,” she said simply.

  "I still don't like the thought of opening Nexar to offworlders.” He stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand. “Look at the trouble of allowing just one to stay has caused."

  She circled the wrist of the hand cupping her face. Her fingers barely fit around it. “We can go slow. Open a few of the most profitable markets first. Trust me."

  His gaze softened, became intent. “I do."

  A warm glow settled around her heart. She basked in it for a long moment. “And I trust you.” She allowed a slow smile to curve her lips. “Did I tell you I found something that might be even more,” she paused meaningfully, “stimulating than a feather?"

  A flame kindled in his eyes. “I thought the feather was your favorite. I must admit I'm rather fond of it myself. It had applications I never dreamed possible."

  An answering heat melted her insides. She cleared her throat. “Um. The feather has its uses, I agree, but I think I found something even more versatile.” Riana sauntered over to the desk, a provocative swing to her hips. “It just so happens I have it here."

  "In the office?"

  "Interested?""

  "Do I get a turn this time?” he asked, his hands already on the laces of his old tunic.

  A trend the rest of the women were slow to adopt. Maybe once she and Darias began working as a true team that would change. She grinned, picturing the men's relief at pitching the revealing thongs and leather harnesses.

  Riana pursed her lips and pretended to think. “Well..."

  "Teamwork,” he reminded her before dropping the tunic to the floor and starting on his breeches. The soft leather did nothing to hide his g
rowing arousal.

  Desire made her mouth go dry. Riana licked her lips. “I think that might be arranged.” She fumbled inside a drawer, not taking her eyes of Darias as he shed his breeches. Her hand closed around the leather binding of a book.

  The Damsel and the Dragon.

  She started to lift it out, then changed her mind. She didn't need the dragon in the book. Not when she had her own, real live dragon.

  Maybe she'd give the book to Bryta.

  She closed the drawer.

  A private smile lifted her lips.

  Perhaps after she and Darias had recreated all the love scenes.

  She opened a different drawer. Her hand closed about a length of soft material, and she held it up.

  "A piece of cloth?"

  She drew the deep amethyst material through her fingers with deliberate slowness. “Any ideas yet?"

  * * * *

  Darias smiled, a slight curve of his lips. “Oh, I think I can come up with one or two."

  And three and four.

  He sank to his knees on the rich, burgundy rug, taking Riana with him. Slowly, he reached out and closed his hand over the material, right above hers.

  Just as slowly, she released it.

  Curious, Darias studied the cloth. In some ways it reminded him of the colorful, arm-length scarves the women wore in the open-air markets, but there was an odd metallic sheen to this material. He hefted the scarf, surprised to discover it was as light as a leaf on a breeze. Darias squeezed it, liking the sensuous feel of the material against his palm. He nearly dropped the cloth when it seemed to pulse in response to his touch.

  "It's alive!"

  Riana gave a throaty murmur of amusement. “No, it is responding to the biochemical signals in your skin.” She walked two fingers up his thigh until she was touching both him and the cloth. “Different emotions give off different biochemicals, and no two people's biochemical signatures are the same. The cloth simply reacts."

  Darias was utterly conscious of her light touch on his hand. It was amazing how a simple touch from this woman could send heat coursing through his veins. The scarf grew warm, as did his simmering blood.

  "Take your clothes off.” He wanted, no, he needed, to see her fully.

  "Take them off for me,” she murmured.

  All too aware that his hands were shaking, he placed the scarf around his neck. He fumbled at the first fastener of her tunic, muffling a curse when he heard the unmistakable sound of cloth tearing. The back of his neck heated with embarrassment. Krel, this was so much easier when she was in charge.

  "Hurry.” Her breathy plea erased his discomfort.

  Within moments, he had the tunic off and discarded on the floor. His hands on the waistband of her breeches, Darias paused. Sucking a deep breath between his teeth, he dropped his head and fought for a measure of control.

  "Darias?"

  "Shh, it's alright. I'm not going anywhere.” He had to do this right. Too often in the past, he'd taken while holding part of himself back. This time he was going to give. As much as he loved her taking control, it was her pleasure that was paramount now.

  Keeping one hand on her waist, he scooted until he was behind her. He slipped off the leather tie holding her hair, freeing the glorious mass to fall in a living river of color. He removed the scarf from around his neck and, carefully lifted her hair and slipped the scarf around hers, leaving the ends to dangle over her breasts.

  Each intake of air, each movement, caused the ends to brush the tips of her breasts.

  Still on his knees, he pulled Riana between his spread thighs. Sliding his hands around his waist, he opened her breeches. Brushing the dark red triangle between her legs with the tips of his fingers, he began placing tiny kisses down her spine. Every so often, he tugged on her hair with his lips, just to see the shiver race down her spine.

  Riana moaned when he reached the small of her back, the sound vibrating a responding chord deep inside him.

  She began a primal rocking motion.

  He caught her hips and held her still as he painted an intricate pattern at the curve of her waist. No longer sure who he was teasing the most with the slow seduction, and at the end of his control, he lifted her slightly and shoved her breeches down over her firm bottom and off her legs.

  She tried to turn in his arms.

  Darias refused to let her, tucking her back firmly between his knees. “My turn,” he reminded her, barely able to form the words. Darias drew his hands up, over her flat belly, to the slight ridges of her ribs, up until he had trapped the silky material of the scarf between his palms and her breasts.

  The material heated and pulsed.

  Riana gave a quivery little moan of desire.

  In a heartbeat, he had lifted Riana up and around, so that she was straddling his waist. His mouth closed over her breast, pulling strongly at the taut nipple.

  Riana's head tilted back and her fingers bit into his upper arms. She moved restlessly in his arms.

  The fragrance of her arousal filled his senses. Holding her tight against him with one arm, he used the other to lower her to the floor, following her down, his mouth still at her breast.

  He pulled back, looking at his handiwork. The crest of her breast was flushed a deep red, furled and begging for more kisses. Satisfaction roared through him. He didn't even try to hide his arrogant smile.

  She glanced at him from between lowered lashes. The heat in her gaze was enough to set him ablaze.

  He stared at her, unable to get enough of her honest need. Even as he watched, the amethyst material covering her breast seemed to take on a silver shimmer in the muted light of the storm.

  Taking one end of the material in his hand, he drew it down her body, his gaze locked with hers.

  Her breath caught and she arched under his ministrations. Darias lifted first one leg, and then the other, placing them over his shoulders, leaving Riana wide open to his touch. He waited, giving her time to object.

  She smiled at him.

  His heart stopped in his chest at the implicit trust in her smile. Light as the gossamer wings of a honeybird, he slid the scarf from around her neck, over her breasts, and down her stomach. His mouth followed the same path. Beneath his lips, he felt a muscle in her stomach contract sharply. Her scent filled his head.

  Could he do this outside of Punishment? Could he put his mouth on Riana, arouse and fulfill her?

  His mouth went dry, a lifetime of tradition shouting a warning in his head. Telling him he was weak to choose a woman's pleasure over his duty as a warrior.

  Riana shifted, and her hands came up to cradle his head.

  He figuratively turned his back on the voices of the past. Weak to give her pleasure instead of humiliation? To take his own in her arms?

  He hadn't known what true strength was until he tried to master Riana and instead discovered the steel in her spine.

  Discovered what love felt like in her arms.

  He froze.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. He loved her. A chill deeper than any he'd felt before, washed over Darias. After all he'd done to her, trying to crush her spirit, humiliating her in front of not only his warriors, but her friends, how could she ever love him back?

  Krel, the Gods could be cruel. Love wasn't an emotion Nexarian custom encouraged. Strength, loyalty, duty. Yes, they were all concepts drilled into him since a child.

  But not love.

  Darias wanted to rage, to slam his fist into something. To find a woman he loved only to learn his own actions had ruined any chance of gaining love in return...

  "Darias?” Riana breathed, naked hunger in her sultry tones.

  He shoved his despair aside. He'd deal with his revelation later. Now, now he would give her this.

  Stretching the material between the soft folds of her feminine flesh, he pulled it taut. He closed his mouth over both Riana and the material. Little currents eddied out, sending jolts of pleasure from his mouth to her.

  "Darias!” Riana
screamed as her body began tiny, internal convulsions.

  He took his time loving her with his mouth, despite her pleas and demands to finish it running his tongue from the cloth-covered swollen nub to her opening. Darias felt her unmistakable reaction as wave after wave of powerful shivers quivered inside her.

  "Darias!"

  He pressed his tongue deep inside her opening.

  Riana fell completely apart.

  Darias made sure he was there to catch her.

  * * * *

  His heart was pounding against her ribs. Riana pressed a kiss on the inside of his arm. “For a beginner, you learn pretty quick."

  He gave a laugh that turned to a stifled moan as she wriggled to get more comfortable. She realized Darias was still aroused.

  She lifted her upper body, holding it slightly away from his. “Now it's my turn. What would a spanking feel like with this,” she slid the amethyst scarf across his chest, “draped over your ass?” she asked in a deep, sensual whisper as she wrapped it around his cock and tugged softly.

  His heartbeat jolted, then accelerated.

  She leaned forward to taste one nipple. Riana slid her mouth to the hollow of his throat, lips parted slightly so the edge of her teeth scraped his skin. She tasted salt as the tip of her tongue stroked the firm flesh. She sucked on his neck, an erotic tug that sent a hard shudder the length of his spine.

  "Stay right there,” she muttered.

  Crossing to a desk, she retrieved her book. Tapping one slender finger on the leather binding, Riana tried to get calm the erratic beating of her heart. She reached for the cut-crystal decanter Darias had kept on the desk and poured a glass of deep, red wine.

  Control.

  She took a sip, letting the spicy, fruity flavor burst over her taste buds.

  She needed to regain control. Her emotions were too close to the surface to conceal. She wanted, ached, for that last, tiny little part of Darias. It went deeper even than obsession. No, it was much more fundamental than that.